Of Men and Spies
by JBgirl
Summary: Set during the beginning of Season 4. My take on what might have happened. VS, SS, WN Feedback and reviews are HIGHLY appreciated! :D I am having issues with the spacing. I apologize for whatever confusion it may cause. Email me for sequel info.
1. Chapter 1

A/N If the spacing drives you nuts (a it did me), please go to will try to rectify this problem ASAP. Until then, please accept my apologies.

A dark-haired head popped around the corner of the open doorway.

"Sydney, we need you in Sloane's office."

The woman behind the desk looked up and smiled.

"I'll be right there, Nadia."

Quickly, Sydney Bristow gathered the many assorted files scattered willy-nilly on her

modern-looking desk. One of the files accidentally slipped from her fingers and landed like

an open book on the floor. A large photograph graced the page as if it were a graphical

title. The framed dirty-dishwater blonde stared back at her with the hint of an inexplicable

smirk. Sark. Grabbing the file, Sydney slammed it shut and unceremoniously placed it with

the others in the cabinet. As much as he annoyed her in the flesh, he was not going to do the

same with a simple picture. Just two days before, Agent Kendall stopped by out-of-the-

blue. As startled as she was, he apparently had clearance. The big red id card monopolizing

the left side of his standard black suit was evident enough. He had gathered the team

together–Sydney, Vaughn, Jack, Dixon, Nadia, Marshall, Sloane, and the newly-acquired

Weiss–and informed them that the Covenant was back after a short hiatus. His had said his

position in the very entangled web of the black operations spy world was top secret, but

they were to follow his orders. He would temporarily have authority over all of the APO,

even over their new boss.

The objective was to find out what the Covenant was up to. The APO didn't have an on-

staff research team, so Sydney was given the assignment of researching previous and

current members. Unfortunately, Sark and Lauren were two of said members. The thought

still nagged at her that she should have known Lauren was part of the Covenant, which, of

course, didn't make sense to anyone else. Heaving a sigh, Sydney went to join the others in

Sloane's office.

"We have just learned that Erick Terenkov", Kendall pushed a button and the ugliest man

in the world popped up on their monitors, "Covenant leader of the European cell, has

teamed up with Anna Espinosa," he pushed another button, "former K-Directorate, and

enemy of the defunct SD-6. Agent Bristow will update you on their activities. "

Sydney spoke up immediately.

"Erick Terenkov, former KGB, now works for the Covenant and is rumored to have ties

with everyone from Hollywood director J.J. Abrams to Osama Bin Laden. Anna Espinosa

worked for K-Directorate before disappearing. She has been assumed dead for over four

years."

Kendall nodded at her in brief thanks. "Apparently she's not. According to our intel, they

are trying to put the last piece in the Rambaldi jig-saw puzzle."

A mental groan went through Sydney Bristow's brain.

"Of course," Kendall went on, "we can't allow for that to happen. So we've arranged for

Mr. Sark to supply us with a little information."

In unison, Vaughn, Sydney, and Weiss questioned with a loud, "WHAT?"

"He's not to be trusted," impressed Sydney.

"He's a freakin' psycho killer," prompted Weiss.

Vaughn simply looked down at the very white table and glowered, saying nothing. Large

wrinkles deepened in the skin above his brow.

"We had eggs," said a confused Marshall with a shrug.

All eyes turned in his direction.

"Well, I...see...all of you left...it felt like a ghost town...he was a familiar face and–"

"Sydney, Vaughn, Nad–heck with it–EVERYONE, your mission is to break Sark from the

CIA facility in Los Angeles. Marshall has the specs and building plans. You leave tonight."

With that, Kendall left the room.


	2. Chapter 2

Silence reigned throughout the room and the turning of wheels could almost be heard,

though Weiss' seemed to be a mite squeaky.

"Why do we have to break him out?" asked a bewildered Weiss. "Why don't we just ask

for him to be transferred?"

If Jack were a humorous person, he might have laughed. Unfortunately, he wasn't.

"Because we are a black ops division of the CIA." He leaned toward Weiss. "We. Don't.

Exist."

"Ok, man, you're scaring me."

Five hours later, the team was on their way.

The van was quiet. Everyone was keeping busy–Sydney being mad at Jack, Vaughn being

his usual somber self, Dixon driving, Marshall working on the computer, and Weiss

making eyes at Nadia. Sloane stayed at headquarters to supervise. Unexpectedly, Jack's cell  
phone chirped. After a minute he closed the phone and looked up.

"That was Kendall. Change of plans. Sark is being transferred to a more secure location.

We're to intercept them and extract the prisoner just before they reach their destination–

CIA headquarters." Dixon turned the wheel and the van spun in a complete 180. Then Jack

answered the unasked question.

"It seems the higher-ups wanted to keep Sark for themselves and in doing so conspired

against Kendall."

Everyone put on their coms as the elder Bristow gave them what details he had and passed

the intel onto Sloane. Vaughn immediately began giving interrogative orders. "Marshall,

can you use satellite imagery to track the transport?"

"I...just a sec...have to check..."

"Well, can you or not?"

"Vaughn!" Sydney scolded. "Please, stop haranguing Marshall. He's doing the best he can,

just as we all are."

Vaughn looked mutinous, but refrained from saying more.

Dixon signaled to everyone. "Jack, I see a vehicle up ahead matching the description you

gave me. Do you want me to pursue?" Jack climbed into the passengers seat. "Marshall, do  
you have anything on the radar?"

"No. The spectrum is too broad. Every car, truck, and van looks the same." CIA

headquarters was less than a mile away.

Sydney and her father exchanged looks as if to confirm what they were both thinking.

"Do it."

The vans tires squealed as it shot past the transport. A quick turn of the wheel and the target  
automobile was dead in the water.

Both teams jumped out at the same time. Chaos ensued as the APO team tried to

tranquilize the guards as quickly as possible. Everyone was shouting to be heard over the

short spats of gunfire the CIA sentinels managed to get off.

Only Jack's voice could be heard over the com. "They must have been expecting us! There

are too many of them! Phoenix, extract the target and retreat! We'll hold them off!"

Sydney whirled to the back of the transport and wrenched open the door. Waiting inside

were four armed guards and Sark. Skillfully putting a dart in each guard's neck, she

grabbed the manacled blonde by his arm and dragged him into the nearest alley.

Julian Lazarey looked astounded. "Sydney Bristow?" His trademark smirk crept onto his

face. "I don't believe it. You, a CIA operative, are breaking me–"

Sydney slammed him against the dank cement wall, hissed "Shut up, Sark," and deftly shot

him in the foot.


	3. Chapter 3

He slumped to the floor. Hurriedly she grabbed a handful of unidentifiable grime and ran it

through his curly locks and over his face. Taking out her knife, she used the toothed edge

to cut ragged holes in his prison coveralls. More dirt followed soon after. Without

warning, Sark's body involuntarily shivered. Los Angeles nights were chilly during the

month of December. Sydney could feel his warm skin through his shirt as she dragged him

across the alley and laid him against a dumpster. She covered him with all the trash and

garbage she could find. Her foot accidentally kicked a hidden stack of mostly empty beer

bottles over with a loud CRASH! Crap. Being the queen of improvisation, Sydney grabbed

an unbroken bottle with some liquid still in it and doused Sark with the remaining

contents.. Out on the road, a vehicle could be heard racing away while a voice shouted,

"They went this way! Through the alley!" With amazing agility, Sydney scrambled into the

dumpster and shut the lid with not a second to spare.

Men rushed down the alley, pointing their guns this way and that.

"There's somebody over here!" cried one of the younger soldiers. The captain of the guard

rushed over to look.

"It's just a tramp." He leaned down and sniffed. "A drunk tramp at that. Watch this." The

leader delivered a swift kick to the small of Sark's back. A low groan reached the men's

ears as they laughed at his misery.

"Alright, men, keep searching. They can't have gone far. Rigby, take a look in that

dumpster!"

A broad, heavily-muscled man lifted one of the lids just enough to peep in. The smell that

permeated the air made his stomach lurch.

"Sir, I think something died in there!"

The captain wasn't about to sample anything that smelled of rotting flesh, not even oxygen.

He took a few steps farther from the dumpster.

"Probably a dead rat. Continue on."

When the last shuffling of feet could no longer be heard, Sydney peeked out of the large

receptacle. Seeing the coast was clear, she jumped out and bent over,promptly donating

her supper to the rats. Putting a shaky hand to her mouth, the young spy attempted to calm

her raging heaves. A minute later, two shadowy figures, one physically supporting the

other, exited the alleyway.

Breathing heavily into the handset of the pay phone, she considered her choices, came up

with one decision, and dialed the number.

"Bristow."

"Dad, it's me."

"Sydney, where are you?

"I have Sark and we're headed to Baldur's Gate."

"We're on our way. ETA twenty minutes."

Baldur's Gate was the codename for a disco club nearby. Good spies always hid things in

plain site. Now they were going to hide in plain site. Well, at least in public. As Sydney

opened the side door, Gloria Gaynor's I Will Survive blasted through her ear drums. How

fitting. Towing the still-sluggish and shackled Sark along, the exhausted woman dropped

them both into chairs in the darkest corner of the flashing room. Strange, the ball was

slowly dropping. Oh yes, it was New Year's eve, wasn't it? A disco New Year's eve party.

There wasn't any place she'd rather be.

People avoided them like the plague. Sydney attributed it to the extreme stench that

seemingly rolled off her. Sark merely reeked of alcohol, though he looked much the worse

for wear. A few minutes later Nadia walked through the doorway. As they carried Sark

outside, Nadia asked her sister, "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine."

The door of the nondescript van opened just as they reached it.

"What is that awful smell? And what in the world did you do to Sark?" asked Weiss.

Sydney leaned back in her seat as she went on to explain the events of the evening..

"Oh, and Marshall, I don't think this wetsuit is completely waterproof."

"It should be. I tested it completely before the mission."

"Ketchup must not be made of water then. At least, I think it's ketchup."

Everyone but Dixon stared at her in horror. She laughed.

"Guys, it's ok," Sydney looked over and grinned at Nadia, "At least we didn't have to crawl

through those sewer pipes."


	4. Chapter 4

Sark awoke almost immediately after Jack injected him with the antidote to the

tranquilizer. He found himself strapped into a chair in a small room. Sydney stood nearby.

The smirk returned instantly.

"I must say, I am quite surprised by your actions. I didn't know you cared so much."

"We were simply transferring you from one cell to another," countered a rather irked

Sydney.

Sark started as he saw his reflection in the observation window. "My God, Sydney, what

did you do to me?"

Sydney assumed her most menacing look and said coldly, "You will address me as Agent

Bristow."

"You obviously aren't an agent any more, Sydney, if that last escapade meant what I think it

does. By the way, what is that awful stench?"

Again the look. "Don't jump to conclusions, Sark, and don't call me Sydney."

Behind her, the door opened. Kendall and Sloane walked in.

Sark's eyebrows rose just a little. "My, isn't this day just full of surprises."

"Jack, Sydney. Good work out there," Sloane commented.

Sydney glared back.

"We'd like a few minutes with Mr. Sark," said Kendall, though it was definitely more of an

order than a statement.

"What? Why can't we stay?" Sydney's night was definitely not getting any better.

"Why don't you two go home and get some rest. We'll let you know if we find out

anything," assured Sloane.

Reluctantly, Jack and Sydney stood up to leave.

For some reason they weren't very convinced by Sloane's assurances.

Early the next morning, Sydney stepped out of the shower and put on her bathrobe. She had

to stifle a scream after looking into the mirror. There was STILL garbage in her hair after

three washings. Opening the door, the perturbed woman stomped into the living room.

"Nadia, could you help me? I can't get these pieces of trash out of my hair."

Her sister smiled and took the comb from her. As Nadia attempted to untangle the snarls

caused by the unknown objects, she asked, "Is Vaughn coming over tonight?"

"He should be."

"What does that mean?"

Sydney sighed.

"I don't know. I just don't know. Vaughn wouldn't talk to me last night. When I asked

what was bothering him, he mumbled something about Sark and walked away." She turned

and looked at Nadia.

"He hasn't forgotten about Lauren."

"Dad, have they found out anything?"

"I don't know, Sydney. I'm not privy to any intel pertaining to Sark."

"But it's been two days! Surely Sloane told you e truth?"

"I have already told her the truth that she needs to hear."

"It's not the same, and you know it."

"Perhaps not, but I would rather have her remember Irina in a positive light, wouldn't

you?"

He turned and walked away.

An hour later, Sydney walked into Sloane's office for a recently scheduled meeting. There

stood Sark, practically gleaming in a black suit that contrasted sharply with the white

backdrop of the office. Their eyes locked. Brown versus blue in a battle of wills.

"Agent Bristow, you may take a seat," Kendall interrupted their small war and gestured in

the direction of the other attendees. Everyone was there except for Marshall. Just at that

moment, Marshall burst into the room.

"Oh, Syd, I'm glad I caught up with you. I wanted to give you these files before the meeting

star–" Marshall's eyes located the person directly behind Sydney. His eyes widened

enormously as he stepped closer to her and attempted to whisper indiscreetly, "Syd, Sark is

here."

"We know."

Marshall opened his mouth as if to say something, stopped, closed his mouth, and gave

Sydney the folders he was holding.

"Hello...again," Marshall looked ready to turn tail and run.

Sark nodded ever so slightly,"The pleasure is all mine, Agent Flinkman."

At a loss for words, Marshall scurried over to the couch and sat down. Sydney followed at

a much slower pace.

Sloane cleared his throat.

"Kendall and I have finished our negotiations with Mr. Sark and we have come to an

agreement. In exchange for his freedom, Mr. Sark will help us in any way that he can.

Please welcome him to the team."


	5. Chapter 5

As expected, everyone was quite stunned by the highly unusual news. Sydney spoke first.

"Unbelievable."

"I assure you, Ms. Bristow," said a very cool Sark, "it is all quite believable. I have

information that would take the CIA years to discover, and because of that, I am a valued

commodity in your world."

"What information might that be?"

Sark grinned. "Now, Ms. Bristow, like your mother, the information I have is on a need-to-

know basis. Otherwise, I'd lose my value."

Vaughn spoke Agent Vaughn, is not your concern." said Kendall sternly. "Instead, you should be

concerned about Erick Terenkov and Anna Espinosa. Sydney, please update Agent Sark on

the situation at hand and get all the information you can out of him. In the meantime I want

everyone else to keep a sharp eye out. This meeting is over."

Vaughn pulled Sydney into a vacant room as soon as she stepped out of Sloane's office.

gent for the Covenant."

"That, Agent Vaughn, is not your concern." said Kendall sternly. "Instead, you should be

concerned about Erick Terenkov and Anna Espinosa. Sydney, please update Agent Sark on

the situation at hand and get all the information you can out of him. In the meantime I want

everyone else to keep a sharp eye out. This meeting is over."

Vaughn pulled Sydney into a vacant room as soon as she stepped out of Sloane's office.

"You aren't going to accept this are you?"

"Accept, no, but I will sap Sark for all he's worth, and then throw him back in a cell where

he belongs. If I have to manipulate the devil to catch two demons, so be it."

"I can't handle this. This situation is just too insane and preposterous."

"Does this have anything to do with Lauren?"

Vaughn looked at her with his usual expression of sorrow, but didn't say anything.

Sydney was getting irritated. In fact, she was still a little mad about the way he ignored her

after the last mission.

"Don't worry about me; I can handle myself. We'll talk about this later. I have a meeting

with Sark."

She turned and left.

It took Sydney less than five minutes to update Sark on the information the APO had so far.

"Erick Terenkov and Anna Espinosa have combined forces. We believe their objective is to

solve the Rambaldi mystery. We don't know what artifacts they have uncovered, if there

are any at all, or what they are searching for. Do you know anything about this?"

Julian studied her face for a moment.

"Before we start in on this extremely complicated matter, I would just like to say I am

overjoyed to be your coworker once more. I said once before that we were destined to

work togther; I still truly believe that."

She eyed him suspiciously.

"Sark, let's clear one thing up here and now. There is no 'working together'. We are only

talking because you have information that I need. Remember that."

The man in question narrowed his eyes.

"And you, _Sydney_, would do well to remember that you need me. In case your boyfriend

happens to forget while we are in the field."

It was her turn to narrow her eyes.

"Don't push me, Sark. With the exception of your jaw, I will gladly break every bone in

your body."

He arched an eyebrow.

"What would stay your hand from breaking my jaw?"

"Kendall wants you to remain intelligible."

Julian leaned back in his chair and smirked.

"Well, then, let's get to it."


	6. Chapter 6

"We have to what?" demanded Dixon.

Sydney repeated herself, "We have to steal the Mona Lisa."

Jack took over from there.

"According to Sark's intel, Leonardo da Vinci was not only a rumored member of the

Illuminati, but also a Rambaldi follower. Apparently, da Vinci encoded a message on the

back of the painting. Like the forty-seventh page of Rambaldi's journal, the message can

only be revealed using a special liquid substance. Unfortunately, Espinosa recently

acquired the liquid, though we don't know what kind of container it is stored in. Terenkov

and Espinosa plan to steal the painting as it's being transferred to be restored in less than

twenty-four hours."

Kendall nodded at Marshall.

Marshall stood up and cleared his throat.

"Hello everyone. How are we doing today? Good. Did anyone catch that Roy Rogers'

western last night? It was really good. I used my nifty TIVO to record it...in case any of you

might want–sorry Mr. Kendall and Mr. Sloane. You know, that's kind of weird there are

two of you, I really don't know which one to–oh right." Marshall pushed a button. On the

screens a map of the Louvre appeared. "Here is where you'll enter. The restoration facility

is located within the building so–"

"Weiss, can I have a word?"

He looked up from his cluttered desk.

"Sure, Sydney, let's go in there."

They entered the same vacant room Vaughn had pulled her into earlier.

"What's up?" He asked, looking boyishly adorable.

Sydney looked down at the ground for a moment.

"Has Vaughn...spoken to you?"

"About what?"

Sydney looked into this eyes.

"About Lauren."

Weiss immediately knew something wasn't quite right.

"No, Syd, he hasn't talked to me about it. What is it? Did he say something to you?"

She could feel the tears forming in her eyes.

"No, that's just it. He won't talk to me. He's put up a wall, closed himself off, and I don't

know what to do about it."

Weiss pulled her into a hug.

"Don't cry. It will all work out. Just give him some time."

"He doesn't need time. He needs closure. I thought killing Lauren might have given him

that."

Weiss sighed. "I don't know what to tell you, Sydney, but–"

"I am interrupting something?" Sark leaned against the wall nonchalantly.

"No," Sydney said angrily, "we were just leaving." Glaring at Sark, she stalked from the

room.

"What's to keep Sark from escaping the moment he gets a chance?" a concerned Jack

questioned Kendall. "An opportunity is sure to present itself quite quickly if you insist on

letting him go into the field."

"We believe Sark is a not triple-agent for the Covenant, but, instead, is working for

himself. He needs us to achieve whatever purpose he's after. As is the case with Sloane,

we'd rather be able to keep an eye on him."

"My daughter's eye, I've gathered."

Kendall looked him.

"Like it or not, Jack, Sark wants your daughter to stay alive. According to her reports, he

has had numerous chances to end her life, but plainly hasn't taken the initiative to do so."

"That may be, but what if he changes his mind?"

"Then Sydney will do what she has to. She's a big girl, Jack. Your daughter can take care of

herself."


	7. Chapter 7

A shadowy figured appeared out of the night and crept to the side door. Seconds later

another shadow followed. The first shadow grabbed the small pouch hung on her belt.

"Merlin, are you sure about this?"

"Definitely, Phoenix, the security is on the inside. They don't care if you get in, but most

likely you won't be getting out." A beat of silence. "Unnnless you have me that is."

"Thank you for that assurance," said a very sarcastic British voice.

"Sorry,"squeaked Marshall, "Don't kill me."

Sydney quickly picked the lock, turned the handle, and the two hurried inside. Swiftly

moving down the hallway, they soon reached the desired room.

"I don't see the painting. I don't see any paintings."

"Anna must have gotten here first."

"Why would she take all of them? And how did she–" Sydney sniffed the air. "Do you

smell that?"

Sark lifted his nose and took a deep breath. "Paint. This room is being renovated."

Sydney took a deep breath for other reasons.

"Merlin, the Mona Lisa isn't here. The room is being renovated. Can you find the current

location?"

The sound of typing could be heard over their coms.

"It's been temporarily moved to room thirteen in the southwest wing and is awaiting the

morning transfer to restoration."

Room thirteen was so small that it held but one painting. The Mona Lisa. Sydney could

only stare. Though she had seen the painting dozens of times, just at that moment, the small

smile seemed so familiar. So small was the smile, in fact, that it could have been a...smirk.

Sydney turned her head and carefully regarded Sark. Sark's blue eyes considered her as

well. After a few moments, he cocked his head to the side and asked, "Is there a problem?"

Her thoughts interrupted, Sydney shook her head. "No, no there isn't." She spoke into her

com, "Merlin, is everything ready?"

"Blocking alarm frequency now," came the voice in her ear, "You have three minutes

before systems are back online."

Sark opened two very large knives and gave one to Sydney. As he cut inside the top and

right edges of the frame, she took the left and the bottom. As bad as she felt about

potentially defacing a famous work of art, there was no way they could have carried the

heavy frame around without getting caught. When the alarm sounded two minutes later, the

guards found the room completely empty.

Sydney and Sark climbed into the van in which Nadia and Weiss were waiting. Marshall

and Vaughn were in another van nearby. Dixon and Jack were currently on assignment in

Nepal with Sloane supervising.

"Let's boogey," Weiss said as he winked at Nadia. She smiled back. Sydney couldn't help

but smile herself. Sark remained impassive, though his blue eyes were clearly assessing the

pair.

"Your mother didn't tell me much about you, Nadia."

Nadia turned and leveled her gaze at him.

"Is that so?"

"Yes," continued Sark, "in fact, I quite by accident stumbled upon the knowledge of your

existence. I overheard Irina talking on the phone. She mentioned 'her daughter Nadia' and

'the passenger'. I was intrigued to say the least."

"And are you disappointed with what you found?" asked Nadia.

"On the contrary, I am even more intrigued."

Sydney was about to tell Sark to shut his mouth when, without warning, blue and red lights

could be seen flashing in the reflection of the side mirrors as the sound of a siren crept

closer.


	8. Chapter 8

"How in the heck did they spot us?" demanded a very perplexed Weiss. Already three

police cars were following them.

Eric sped up in an attempt to lose the three tails. Unfortunately, two more cars joined the

procession. Six streets and two alleys later, Weiss made a decision.

"We can't outrun them in this. We're going to have to split up."

Nadia nodded in agreement. "Sydney, Eric and I will head west, you take Sark and go east.

Keep the painting with you. We'll meet at the extraction point in six hours." She quickly

repeated the plan over her com. Dixon and the others agreed to keep a surveillance on the

Louvre in hopes of espying Espinosa.

With a last turn of the wheel, Weiss pulled onto a broad street and slammed on the brakes.

The van squealed to a grinding halt. The four people flew out of the van and slipped away

into the darkness of the starless night.

Sydney stopped running in order to catch her breath. Sark was but a moment behind. He

slowed and followed her lead. They both were breathing hard and sweating profusely.

"I think," Sydney gasped, "we've lost them."

They both collapsed against the side of a building. Sark leaned his head back and half-

closed his eyes.

"After fifteen miles of running, I would hope so."

Silence prevailed and the only thing to be heard was their ragged breathing.

After a few minutes, Sydney stood up and said, "There's a safe house a few miles from

here. We'll take cover there until it's time to meet at the extraction point."

Sark nodded and stood up, but before he could move any further, a figure pinned him to the

wall while another figure tackled Sydney. Faster than lightning, they both had their

attackers on the ground moaning, when another wave struck. This time there were three

thugs for them each. As valiantly as they fought, sheer numbers overcame their efforts.

Both were held in place.

"It seems you have something of mine, Sydney," came a woman's voice from the shadows.

Sydney knew that voice. Anna Espinosa. No sooner had the thought come to her mind,

when the woman herself stepped into the faint morning light.

"I would be most pleased if you would hand over the painting, now."

"I would, but I just can't. Neither my arms nor my hands seem to be functional right now."

If looks could kill, Anna would have been frozen solid.

Espinosa chillingly smiled back. "I guess I'll just have to take it."

She moved closer, but just before capturing the Mona Lisa from Sydney's person, Anna

noticed Sark. Her fingers outstretched in mid-air, she stopped to examine the lean curly-

headed blonde.

"Sark?" The imposing woman moved toward him.

He nodded in greeting. "Anna."

"You two know each other?" Sydney asked incredulously.

Anna gave her a critical once over. "This your new girlfriend, Sark? I would have thought

you had better taste." Her hand moved as if to caress his face, but ceased halfway.

"I supposed it doesn't matter anyway." She walked over and plucked the protective case

from under Sydney's arm. "I have what I want." Pointing to two of her hired help, she said,

"You. Kill them." With that, Anna Espinosa was gone.

The thugs forced them both to kneel and put pistols to the back of their heads. Sydney

looked at Sark, down to her knees, then back up. His eyes flickered with understanding.

"Say goodbye," one of the thugs growled.

With lightning reflexes, the two spies moved in unison, swinging their legs around and

knocking the two men to the ground. Grabbing the dropped guns, Sydney and Sark took off

running down the alley.

Rounding the corner, they ran headlong into a third man, who appeared to be guarding the

alley entrance. Sydney attempted to kick the gun from his hand, but he blocked it with his

arm. The thug didn't even take the time to aim after that, he simply pulled the trigger.

Time slowed to a crawl for the spy duo. The man's index finger began to bend slowly,

ready to finish the deadly task. As the younger Bristow struggled to remove herself from

death's path, Sark jumped in front of her and emptied the chamber of his gun into the

shooter. The dying man staggered backwards, shooting bullets wildy at random. Unluckily,

a rogue bullet found it's mark and pierced Sark's flesh. The momentum of the projectile

pushed him backwards into Sydney and they both fell to the cement floor. A rivulet of

blood ran down the length of his arm and began to fall in small droplets from the tips of his

fingers.


	9. Chapter 9

"Sark, where were you hit?" Sydney asked as she pushed the wounded man to his feet.

He winced in pain. "I can suddenly feel my left shoulder all too clearly, so I assume that

would be the spot."

Carefully, Sydney cut a hole in his form-fitting black turtleneck and sighed in relief at the

results of her investigation.

"Just a flesh wound."

Sark winced once more as she tore his left sleeve off and fashioned a makeshift bandage.

"That should hold you until we reach the safe house. Do you think you can make it?" There

was t looked just like every other place of dwelling in

the surrounding area. The wonders of Suburbia.

After checking every room and securing the perimeter, Sydney retrieved a medical kit from

under the kitchen sink.

"Take off your shirt and sit down," she said while selecting specific items from the white

box.

Sark complied without so much as a peep, though wincing was quickly becoming his least

favorite exp3B

The safe house was small, box-like, and it looked just like every other place of dwelling in

the surrounding area. The wonders of Suburbia.

After checking every room and securing the perimeter, Sydney retrieved a medical kit from

under the kitchen sink.

"Take off your shirt and sit down," she said while selecting specific items from the white

box.

Sark complied without so much as a peep, though wincing was quickly becoming his least

favorite expression.

Using a wet cloth to clear away some of the blood, Sydney made a more thorough

inspection of the wound.

"The bullet grazed the top of your left shoulder. Looks like it went completely through.

This will just need a few stitches."

As soon as she was through closing up the wound, Sark looked her in the eyes and said,

"Thank you." Their faces were but a few inches apart.

Uncomfortable with his sudden nearness, Sydney stepped back and said, "Kendall would be

angry if you died because of me," as if trying to condone her recent actions.

Sark stood up slowly. As he spoke next, a smirk began to form on his pale face.

"Once you get past your open hostility, Sydney, perhaps one day we could be friends."

She looked straight at him, eyes burning with fire and rage.

"Never. You ruined my life," the harsh whisper came through clenched teeth.

"A life recently saved by yours truly."

She visibly flinched at the reminder.

"Saving my life only means that one day I must return the favor. It doesn't require that I

tolerate you any more than I already do."

Sark closed his eyes, appearing to ponder her words. A moment later, the blue orbs were

unveiled once more.

"You believe I am responsible for the destruction your life? On the contrary, I believe you

are the one who ruined mine."

Sydney Bristow's willpower was stretched to the maximum.

"What? How do you justify that statement?"

"You killed not one, but two of the people I have loved. I'm sure you are in no position to

say the same."

The tension between them could be felt, maybe even plucked, much like a taut rubber band.

"What a cocky bastard you are, Sark. You deserved the misery, if in fact their deaths caused

you any pain at all." She failed to point out that Will had actually killed Alison. "I've had

enough of this conversation, shallow as it is." Grabbing a shirt from the closet, Sydney

tossed it in his direction.

"Get dressed, we meet at the extraction point in 3 hours."

"What of the painting?" Sark asked as he carefully slipped on the shirt made of Egyptian

cotton. The CIA definitely kept the place well-stocked.

"What about the painting?"

"Perhaps you didn't notice, but Anna Espinosa relieved us of that priceless burden."

"Actually, I threw it away," Sydney replied as she walked into the bedroom en route the

bathroom.

"You can't be serious."

The bedroom door was slammed in response.


	10. Chapter 10

After cooling down in a very relaxing bath, the dark-haired girl took time to mull over the

conversation. Nothing made sense anymore. How could Sark have possibly accused her of

ruining his life? After all, he chose this life. He knew the dangers. Then again, so did she.

Sydney tried to shake away that annoying thought. Trying to clear her mind, she sunk

deeper into the water. An hour later, she decided to finally make her way out of the tub.

Her hand reached for a towel, but it wasn't in its usual place. Sydney mentally smacked

herself upside the head. In her anger and rage, she had forgotten to grab one out of the

drawer. The only problem was...the drawer was empty. At this point, her options were

limited. Her clothes had been left forgotten outside the door. She had planned to change

into something from the bedroom closet, but wasn't about to take the chance of Sark

walking in. Sydney decided to use her dirty clothes temporarily. She grabbed the doorknob

and...it fell off. Crap. The window was too small to climb out of, even if she was crazy

enough to try in her unclothed state. Crap. She could kick the door down and have Sark

come rushing in to see what was up. Wouldn't that be lovely. Sydney paced the small

bathroom for another hour, trying to devise an ingenious way out of the mess, when a

knock sounded at the door.

"What?"

A muffled British voice drifted through the door. "We should be leaving if we are going to

arrive at the extraction point on time."

"I know." Sydney tried to sound gruff and irritated by the interruption.

Silence.

"Sydney, you aren't stuck are you?"

Her mind raced. "Stuck? What do you mean stuck? I'm not stuck. Why would I be stuck?"

A slight sigh wafted though the crack at the bottom of the door. "You've locked yourself

in the bathroom, haven't you?"

Against her better judgement, the reply that issued from between her lips was a defeated,

"Yes."

Another sigh, this time tinged with impatience.

"How exactly did you manage such a feat? The lock is on the inside."

More silence.

"Sydney?"

Overcoming her pride, she calmly replied, "The doorknob fell off."

Muffled laughter drifted to her ears.

Sydney said loudly, "You're going to have to pick the lock and open the door from that

side...and bring a towel."

"For what?"

"For me."

The door opened a few minutes later. Sark was leaning sideways against the frame,

smirking.

"My, my, Agent Bristow, the fixes you get yourself into."

"My towel?"

His right arm stretched out elegantly, towel in its hold.

Not about to show her embarrassment, she accepted the towel with grace and covered

herself, offering him a curt, "Thank you", in return.

"I assure you, the pleasure was all mine."

"It's in there." Sydney pointed at the dumpster.

"You concealed the Mona Lisa in a trash bin?"

"She's in a protective case."

"I may not possess the appreciation for the fine arts that I should, but, Sydney, really, this is

most appalling. Besides, didn't Espinosa procure the case from you?" questioned a

curious, but slightly horrified Sark.

Sydney smiled triumphantly. "I brought two."


	11. Chapter 11

It was good to be home. Espinosa was still at large, but at least she didn't have Sark's

Mom. That's what Sydney had to taken to calling the Mona Lisa. If only he knew. The

thought made her smile mischievously.

"What's that smile for?" asked Weiss. He was helping her cook dinner for Nadia and

Vaughn.

"I'm just happy to be home."

"What? Didn't you enjoy Paris, zee capital of love?" His French accent was absolutely

horrendous. She laughed hysterically at his antics for another fifteen minutes. Just as Weiss

was beginning to make her cry, the doorbell rang. A breathless Sydney wiped the tears from

her eyes and took a quick peek in the hall mirror to make sure her make-up hadn't run.

Taking a deep breath, she opened the door.

"Hey, guys, come on–Sark? What are you doing here?"

He certainly looked magnificent in his black Armani suit, and his black Armani tie, and his

black Armani overcoat. Even his hair was curled to perfection. Something was up. Sydney

could smell it in the air.

"A good evening to you as well, Sydney. I hope you have sufficiently recovered from our

eventful trip."

Sydney's cheeks attempted to turn a bright red. She willed them not to.

"What do you want, Sark?"

"I simply wanted to return these." He held up a pair of lacy, black string bikini underpants.

"I found them mixed in with my own clothing."

Sydney gasped. She had worn those on the day of the mission. Their absence hadn't been

missed. Just as she reached to snatch them from Julian's hands, an angry voice growled,

"What's going on here?"

Vaughn. Standing on the porch. Watching Sark dangle Sydney's sexy underpants in front of

her. Crap.

Sark placed the object of everyone's attention in her hands and smirked. "I was just

leaving."

He practically danced down the walkway to his black Mercedes.

As soon as the perpetrator was gone, Vaughn immediately wanted to know what was going

on. "Why was he holding your underwear?"

Sydney tried her best to explain about the...mix-up. Though the fiasco in the bathroom

artfully managed to be left untold, most likely for the best. When she was done, he seemed

satisfied with her explanation. "I'm sorry, Syd. It's just after what he and Lauren did–"

She nodded to show her understanding.

In truth, Sydney Bristow was getting very tired of reminiscing about Lauren.


	12. Chapter 12

The sky was a glorious blue and the white sand soft as silk. The days went by in a slow,

beautiful haze. Sydney had never been happier. Vacationing in Fiji was one of Vaughn's

better ideas. She looked over at the beach chair next to her and smiled at the occupant.

Vaughn smiled back. Her hand reached down to grab his, but it wasn't there. Vaughn

wasn't there. He was over by that palm tree, searching for something...or someone. A pit

arose in Sydney's stomach. She attempted to call out to Vaughn, to ask him to come back,

but all sound had ceased to flow. The pit gave a swift lurch when Sydney saw the what

monopolized Vaughn's attention. Lauren was walking down the beach, away from them.

Suddenly, he broke into a run after her. Sydney tried to struggle to her feet, but to no avail.

Her body simply wouldn't be moved. She watched in sorrow as Vaughn's silhouette

moved farther down the beach, until he finally disappeared.

A single, silver tear slid down her cheek.

"He's not worth it, Sydney Anne Bristow. Don't you ever cry over the likes of him," said a

smooth British voice. Without looking, she automatically knew who was now sitting

beside her.

"Sark, what are you doing here?"

"You are living a life not worth living."

This was truly laughable. The guy that crawled out from under a rock was telling her that

her life was screwed up.

"Why don't you just tell me all about it?" Did she really just say that?

"Do you really wish me to continue?" asked the voice.

The sun on the beach was so warm and delightful. All her worries were quickly fading in

its rays. Sark could insult her a thousand times over for all she cared. Besides, his musical

accent was delighting her ears.

"Please do."

"What is most important above all?"

"My family and my friends."

"Let's start with your family then. Are you talking of your mother, who manipulated you

and tried to end your life? Or perhaps your father, who has manipulated you as well, lying

when he should be telling the truth? Maybe you mean your sister, who is prophesied to

either kill you or die by your hand?"

The sun wasn't feeling so warm any more. In fact, dark clouds could be seen on the

horizon, slowly making their way toward the island.

"Stop, Sark, just stop."

"And Vaughn. Do you actually think he will always be there for you?"

"I asked you to stop."

"No, he won't. Do you know why?"

"Stop right now before I–"

"Because Lauren has been burned into his memory. She will not fade. I assure you of this

fact."

"Stop!"

Sydney opened her eyes and sat up, ready to deal with–

Her bedroom. She was back in her bedroom, Vaughn asleep next to her.


	13. Chapter 13

The next day, the dream, more like nightmare, occupied her thoughts. Could it be? Was she

really so blind? Did she actually think Vaughn would suddenly be rid of his memories of

Lauren? Sydney supposed the truth had stared her in the face every day for the last month.

Her father. Twenty years after his wife's betrayal and he still needed closure. Would that

happen to Vaughn?

"–other than Espinosa, Sydney?"

She mentally snapped back into focus. Everyone was looking at her. She thought she might

be having another nightmare. Sydney examined herself for a split second. She wasn't naked.

This must be reality.

Her head really needed to get back in the game. "Could you repeat that, please?"

Kendall looked slightly taken aback. "I asked if you recognized anyone other than

Espinosa?"

"No." A thought came to her mind. "Did Sark?"

Sark looked at her with an odd expression on his face. In fact, all of them were looking at

her with an odd expression. She pinched herself to verify that she was really awake.

"Syd, are you ok?" asked Marshall.

"I...I'm fine. What's going on?"

"It seems, Agent Bristow, that while I was detailing the events of France, you dozed off."

"I did not doze off! I was merely...thinking of what Espinosa might do next."

Sloane walked over and patted her shoulder. "As we all are, Sydney. Now, according to our

intel, Espinosa currently has her main base of operations here," a photo of a nightclub

flashed onto the screens, "in Madrid, Spain."

"What is she doing there?" asked Weiss.

"That is exactly what the APO needs to find out. Since we have the Mona Lisa, the ampule

is our secondary concern.. Rambaldi artifacts have been around for centuries; they can wait

a few more days."

Did Sloane actually just say that? Sydney was more than amazed, but her gut still told her

that he was up to something fiendish.

"Why a nightclub?" piped in Marshall.

Sydney replied, "It's her style."

"It's an ordinary nightclub?" Her voiced was laced with disbelief. "I don't have to wear a

leather corset, carry a whip, or smear my face with more than an ounce of make-up?"

Marshall nodded happily.

"What's the catch?"

"No...catch. Well, there may be one 'catch' so to speak, but it's really not all that impor–"

"Marshall?"

He grimaced.

"It's an asphyxiation club."

"People strangle each other?"

"According to popular belief, the lack of oxygen...enhances the sexual bond between the

strangler and his victim." Sark didn't go into detail.

"That's disgusting."

"Well, Sydney, we all have certain...proclivities." Smirk.

At that moment, Vaughn walked up to the strategizing trio and said, "Sydney, could I speak

to you for a second?"

She nodded in agreement. Back into the same vacant room as before.

"I..."

"What is it, Vaughn?" she asked, her heart hoping beyond hopes that he was finally going

to share his thoughts and feelings with her. That he did, but not about what she expected.

"I don't want you going on this mission. Have Nadia go instead."

Sydney was perplexed. "What? Why?"

"Because you're going to a...you're going to a sex club with Sark. I don't think I can handle

that."

She sighed in irritation.

"I've already explained this to you. Dad told me that Sark would be my responsibility. I am

supposed to keep my eye on him."

"But you never told me why." Vaughn retorted angrily. "Why you? Why not Dixon or

Nadia? **Why you**?"

Sydney took a deep breath.

"Kendall believes that Sark has a certain...respect for me."

"Respect? What is that supposed to mean?"

"I don't know, Vaughn, but Sark doesn't seem to be particularly determined to kill me. And

I, for one, am going to use that to my advantage."

A hard light entered Vaughn's eyes.

"Don't do this, Sydney."

"Vaughn, you're being irrational. We can use this."

Unfortunately for her, his mind was made up.

"If you go on that mission, we're through."

He left without looking back. Perhaps Sydney should have felt dismal by this

announcement, but just at the moment, she wanted mostly to claw his eyes out.


	14. Chapter 14

_Casa del Diablo_. House of the Devil. What a fitting name. Sydney looked around. People

were everywhere. Many were against the walls, in order to get better leverage. Others were

in the middle of the dance floor, though few seemed to be dancing, at least from what she

could tell. There seemed be a great deal of...writhing going on. The people with more

normal tastes were in between, clustered around the bar, sipping alcoholic beverages and

making small talk. Who the heck went to a bar without the intention of getting laid

anyway?

Sydney just wanted to get in and get out. Their mission was to access Espinosa's personal

files and copy everything available. The files were on a server, and the server was below the

nightclub. Kendall did not want Espinosa apprehended. His orders were strict on that

matter. He wanted to see which direction the Covenant was heading and Anna was going to

lead the way.

"Why don't you distract the guards while I pop downstairs?" suggested Sark.

Sydney considered the guards. "I have a better idea. You distract the guards and I'll pop

downstairs. They wouldn't be interested in me anyway."

He immediately grasped her meaning and arched a blonde eyebrow. "Indeed? How very

convenient for you."

"I like to think so." With that, the faux redhead was gone.

Sark sauntered up to the two guards in front of the stairs.

"_¿Habla usted inglés?_"

Both men looked at him, but only one nodded.

"So," Sark put his hands in his pockets, "You frequent this joint much?"

After a second, the guard that nodded laughed and put his arm around Sark.

"My name is Emilio and this is Gregorio. American are you?"

The blonde man nodded nervously.

Gregorio commented to his partner, "_El chico es mono._"

Emilio laughed again. "And just how recently did you, how do you Americans put it, come

out of the closet?"

Sydney couldn't help but quietlysnicker as she made her way down the stairs. Reaching the

bottom, she rounded a corner and smacked into two guards. Luckily, the moderately loud

music upstairs covered their grunts and groans as she skillfully proceeded to knock them

unconscious. Sydney speedily found the server room, extracted a small chip from the heel

of her shoe, plugged it in, and pressed a few buttons on the keyboard. "Download started,

I'll need five minutes," she whispered into her com.

Upstairs, Sark didn't react to the sudden voice in his ear. He simply said, "Can I buy you

gentlemen a drink?"

Emilio smiled, his arm still around Sark. "No, I am afraid not, my friend, we are on guard

duty."

"Guard duty?" Sark asked, looking confused. "Now what could you possibly be guarding

in a place like this?"

Emilio moved his head closer to Sark and whispered in his ear, "A very big, and very

dangerous secret."

Julian turned his head. "And what secret is that?"

Emilio's face was so close, he half expected to be kissed. In fact, Emilio was in the process

of closing the distance when an alarm went off somewhere downstairs. The Spanish man

snapped his head up at the sound. "Stay here, do not follow us," he said to Sark and ran

down the stairs after Gregorio.

Sydney, on the other hand, wasn't fairing so well. The chip had almost completed

downloading the data when the alarm went off. She had no idea why, but grabbed the chip

and ran for the stairwell. Five guards suddenly appeared from out of nowhere. Whirling,

her feet knocked down three, but the other two were drawing their guns. Not wanting to

deal with getting shot, Sydney flew down the corridor and up the stairs so quickly that

Gregorio and Emilio had no chance to stop her. She grabbed Sark by his jacket as she ran

by him and literally towed him toward the entrance. Four armed guards were headed their

way. Stopping short, the two spies looked back. Emilio, Gregorio and the remaining three

guards were just appearing. Without warning, Sark grabbed Sydney and fell to the carpeted

floor. He whispered in her ear, "Make it look convincing." Her hands automatically went

to his neck in a choke hold, while her lips found an ear to nibble on. "Maybe not quite so

convincing," gasped Sark. She loosened her grip just a little while her mouth continued its

work. His hands moved to grasp her sides. "I don't see an exit besides the front door and

the stairs," she said softly into his ear.

"First things first, we can't let Gregorio or Emilio recognize me with you, I'm supposed to

be gay after all."

Her lips moved up to his so her long red hair sheltered his face on both sides. Inspired by

the sudden change of pace, Sark's hands moved up a little farther. Sydney positioned a knee

between his legs in warning. Her faced lifted from his. "Merlin, the entrance is blocked. Is

there any way out downstairs?"

Emilio and another guard walked very near the two spies.

"Um...no. The place is sealed tighter than my grandmother's sock drawer," replied

Marshall.

Crap.

Suddenly, her concentration was broken as she felt Sark's lips on her neck. They moved

slowly, devouring her skin, making her heart pound. Unconsciously, her hands let go of his

neck and moved to his stomach. Her fingers traced every line, every hollow of his physique.

His lips teasingly traveled south, making her gasp lightly. She just wanted him to–

What in the heck?

"Sark," Sydney whispered loudly, "Stop." She pressed her knee down and her hands went

back up to his throat.

He ceased his explorations.

"I am trying to get us out of here alive."

Sark looked up at her. "And what do you propose?"

She looked back down at him. "Why don't we use our newfound talents."

"Emilio!"

He turned to find the blonde man running toward him.

"I told you to stay put. I don't want you to get hurt."

Sark put on his best pained look. "But I saw that woman who ran up the stairs before you."

Emilio was instantly focused on him. "Where?"

"She ran back down the stairs." Sark pointed.

Emilio said something unintelligible into his walkie talkie.

He leaned over and kissed Sark on the cheek. "Thank you, American." Then all but two

of the guards rushed for the stairs.

Sydney appeared beside him. "Let's go," she said with a smirk.


	15. Chapter 15

The plane's engine ran smoothly, its steady rhythm cleared her head and began steadying her

pulse. Even an hour after escaping the club, adrenaline was still pumping through her

veins. Outside, the clouds drifted by like large puffs of cotton candy. Sydney looked over at

Sark. He sat across from her, staring out the window. With no expression, he looked so

young, so vulnerable. Vulnerable her foot.

"How's your shoulder?" Her voice dripped like honey and was as sweet as sugar.

Sark looked at her in surprise. "It's splendid. Thank you for your concern."

She acknowledged this with a nod, then pretended to be gazing out the window herself. Not

a very engaging pastime though, for the scene below was a familiar one. Large, blue, and

water were the only words left to describe it. Well, black right then, since it was still

nighttime after all.

"Although," Sark continued, "that little spill we took at the club did knock it about some. I

should probably have it checked when we get back."

Perfect. He had taken the bait already.

"Speaking of the little spill, exactly what was that about anyway?"

He looked at her in feigned innocence. "Really, Sydney, I would think someone with your

IQ would have understood my trying to save our lives."

Her eyes narrowed.

"Don't try to bluff your way out of this one, Sark. If you EVER try something like that

again, I will thrash you to within an inch of your life. Do you understand?"

"I understand your threat completely, Sydney; but if you didn't enjoy it, then why, might I

ask, did you respond in kind? Perhaps I should be asking you to refrain as well." Smirk.

Her fist rolled into a ball.

"Go suck on an egg, Sark." was the first thing that came to her mind. Wha–? A mental head

slap was definitely required for this.

"Excuse me?"

Well, she'd better go with it, otherwise a fool she would appear.

"You heard me."

"I certainly heard you, but what kind of a retort was that?"

"That was my kind of a retort, so I repeat, go suck on an egg."

"Well, in response, there are other things I would enjoy sucking on much more than an

egg."

Sark was at the end of his string, and he knew it. But for some reason, his inhibitions were

nowhere to be found.

"Would you like me to list them for you?"

Sydney jumped up. "No, I would NOT like you to list them for me. In fact, I would NOT

like for you to talk at all!"

Before he could move, Sydney had grabbed a pair of handcuffs from her carry-on, and

latched Sark to the chair by his left wrist. Another pair of handcuffs for his other wrist

followed, though where she found them he knew not. Four seconds after that, the duct tape

had been removed from a nearby cupboard and attached to his face.

With alook of extreme satisfaction, Sydney sat back down across from him.


	16. Chapter 16

The next meeting was strangely awkward. Vaughn ignored Sydney, Sydney was mad at

Sark, and Sark wanted to kill the whole world, mostly because everyone at the APO was

secretly discussing his escapade.

"Good work," Kendall said. "Especially you, Sark. Sydney detailed in her report how you,"

a small smile played upon his face, "saved both her life and yours." Sark was not amused.

Sloane interjected at this point. "We are still decrypting the data you retrieved from Casa

del Diablo. We don't know how long it will take, so go home, get some rest."

Vaughn caught her before she could leave. "Would you take a walk with me?"

They walked in silence until they reached a park some blocks later. It was completely

deserted, owing much to the fact that it was February.

Trying to break the ice, Sydney suggested, "Let's go out tonight. It would be fun."

Vaughn stopped walking and looked at her. "Didn't you hear a word I said yesterday? I

only asked you on this walk because I wanted to tell you that I'm coming over later to get

my stuff."

She inhaled sharply. "I thought...I thought that you were just angry, that you would–"

"What Sydney? You thought that I would just get over it? That I would just come crawling

back to you with an apology?"

"I–"

"Don't Sydney. Don't even try. I warned you what would happen and you screwed our

relationship over. And for what? Tell me Sydney, what made you do such a thing?" His

voice level was rising with every word.

"I needed to go on that mission, Vaughn. I needed to–"

"Don't give me that crap, Sydney, I know you better than that. No, you WANTED to go on

that mission. What was so different about that mission? Why did you want to go so

badly?" He was shouting loudly by this time.

She actually didn't know why she wanted to go on the mission. There was really no

explanation. She didn't really like Vaughn's shouting either.

"Espinosa..." Sydney began lamely, "I wanted to get back at her for–"

"WRONG! THE ANSWER. IS. SARK. YOU WENT FOR SARK!"

Eyes blazing, he stormed from the park.

Sydney sat down on a nearby bench, shocked by the recent conflict. Her mind was in

overload.

"Am I interrupting something?" asked an arrogant British voice.

She stood up and turned quickly toward the sound.

"You bastard, you were spying on me!"

"Quite the contrary. My apartment is located in that small cluster at the edge of the park. I

happened to spy the pair of you as I was looking out my window."

Sydney wanted so desperately to release her anger, and here was the perfect opportunity

with the perfect whipping boy. This time his ruse was going to be foiled, by her. Then she

was going to beat him into a bloody pulp.

"I want to see it."

Sark laughed. "I assure you, that is where I live. You can check with the–"

Sydney stepped very close and whispered through gritted teeth, "I want to see it, NOW."

And for the second time in two days, Sark was being hauled off by his coat.


	17. Chapter 17

"Which apartment?" as they neared the door of the light blue building.

"Actually, I rent both floors though I only utilize the first. I really can't stand neighbors. I

like my privacy," he answered with a wink.

She really wasn't in the mood.

They entered the building and stood in front of a door marked with the number one.

"Open it."

Sark fished a key from his pocket and unlocked the door.

Sydney stepped inside without a word. It really was his apartment. Unbelievable. The shock

finally wore off as she stood there.. It was all just too much to bear. Tears formed in her

eyes and her chin quivered. Why did Vaughn do this to her?

"Would you like something to drink?" asked Sark as he closed the door.

He turned just as a silver droplet rolled down her cheek.

For a moment there was silence. Rain drops began falling outside. The wind refused to let

them splatter the windows in a constant motion.

"Don't, Sydney. Don't cry, especially over the likes of him."

Remembering her dream, she could muster only enough willpower to gape.

Continuing, Sark said, "You are the best operative to ever grace the halls of the CIA.

You've been lied to, betrayed, and deceived; in return, you lied, betrayed, and deceived.

You have been trained to compartmentalize and to withstand torture. Avowing all this, you

should know better than anyone else that emotions denote weakness and can only

interfere."

She glared back at him. Where did he get off telling her how to live life?

"No, Sark. I think you're describing your own existence in that paragraph. Friendless,

loveless, lifeless–devoid of all emotion. That's where it all will end up." Her mind

stumbled upon a sudden revelation. "That's what happened to you, isn't it? You tried so

hard to get to the top, but in the meantime, life became lackluster and it numbed your soul.

Without a soul, you have no emotions; and without emotions you have no soul."

As she talked, his expression became grimmer. His cold, blue eyes seemed to pierce into

her own.

"It's a vicious cycle, and you have been trapped. You. Never. Feel. Anything."

Without warning, her body was slammed against the wall as his hands pinned her arms in

place.

Sark's lips brutishly raked her own. "I feel this, Sydney." His body leaned farther into hers.

"I feel you."


End file.
